Twisted Alignment
by Dark Novelist
Summary: Through chance circumstances RWBY, Dark/Demon's Souls, and Bloodborne have all joined into one world. Grimm fuse with the beasts, faces old and new have changed roles, and chaos is spreading. Champion of Ash Weiss and Hunter Blake are the only ones left to set things right, even if it means they must sever the worlds by force. Rated M for violence, language, maybe smut later on
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

* * *

In the heart of the transitory lands, a duel to decide the fate of the world takes place. A champion of ash and the soul of the lords do battle for the linking of the fire. The fight is long, but at last a final blow is struck, and the Soul of Cinder falls. Their journey over, the champion of ash steps forward to link the flame…

The Hunter's Dream, a place of refuge and safety, now lay wreathed in flames. In its ever growing cemetery, master and student clash over a difference in morality, and in the end only one can truly be freed from the nightmare with their death. It is not a glorious battle, and as Gehrman fades from the dream, the young hunter sheds a tear of regret. When it is done, the Moon Presence descends upon them, to forever seal their fate…

Grimm are rampaging through the streets below, White Fang are attacking in droves, and the Altesian forces are scattered or turned hostile. Ruby Rose races towards the top of Beacon, Jaune's message filling her with dread. She will not let the people responsible for this take another friend from her, not if she can just get there in time. But when at last she reaches the top, all that awaits her is the sight of Pyrrha Nikos burning away, Cinder standing over her. Deep down, a power never before felt rages within Ruby, and as she cries out in grief, it all comes surging forth in a brilliant light…

Silver eyes. The First Flame. The end of a dream. Three different events, wholly unrelated, but when the threads of fate align…anything is possible. Even the end of the world. Or, perhaps the start of a new one.

* * *

The sky is dim when she awakens, not that the Firekeeper ever remembers seeing a sky to begin with. Still, it is an unusual sight nonetheless. Slowly, feeling returns to her body, and she begins to rise. When at last she makes it to her feet, she is unnerved to discover that it was in fact a coffin she had been laying in. Not far away, there lies several others, all covered in ash. In fact, everything she can see is covered in ash. The ability to see had long since been forbidden to Firekeepers, but the reasoning as to why remained a mystery. No matter, now it was more important to find out where she was, why she was here, and what was going on. The train of thought made her pause, never knowing herself to be so willful in her thinking.

"What's gotten into me?" said a woman's voice she didn't know.

The Firekeeper was alarmed to hear that she had company, then further disturbed upon realizing that the voice had come from her own lips. Looking around, she noticed a small stream running nearby, remarkably clear compared to the ash covered earth around her. Once at the stream, she found herself gazing at a mature woman with platinum blonde hair done up in a bun, with bright green eyes and strange little panes of glass affixed to some contraption on her face held over them. Her apparel was largely the same as it had once been, only now her shoulder cape had a distinct interior purple lining.

"Something is wrong. Something is very wrong. This is not my face, or at least it should not be, but then, why does it feel as though this is how I am supposed to look, and my clothes are the true oddity?" spoke her reflection.

While the Firekeeper warred internally over what should and should not have been correct about her form, the sound of heavy footsteps crunching through the ash sounded behind her. Alarmed, the Firekeeper turned around. Standing a few paces away from her stood another woman, this one far younger in appearance. She wore clothing befitting of a young girl's doll, and the brightness of her pink bow, her red hair, lime green eyes, her freckled face, and generally everything about her seemed to further her doll like image. If that were not enough, the clearly symmetrical and abnormal lines on her hands made it clear that this woman, nay, this girl was not human, but rather an automaton of sorts. The girl smiled happily at her upon finding she'd been acknowledged.

"Salutations!" the girl spoke in a sing song voice. "Who might you be?"

"….I am a Firekeeper." The woman replied after a time. "And, what of you? You do not appear to be human."

"That's correct. I am a doll, set here to help the good hunter however I can."

The automaton's words reminded the Firekeeper of her own duty.

"Just as I am to aid my champion of ash in whatever way is necessary. It seems we share a similar burden."

The girl nodded in understanding.

"It would certainly seem so. But this doesn't feel right, for some reason. I think that I am meant to be taller, and not nearly as bright. Even the way I speak seems foreign to me."

"So it's not just me. Doll, I believe something is wrong with the world, not just the two of us. Take a look around."

The woman indicated a large structure of black brick, with a large bell at the top of a massive tower standing a few dozen steps up the ash covered hillside.

"That is Firelink Shrine, where I carry out my duty. That much is clear to me-"

She then turned in the direction the automaton had come from, and took note of how the ashen hillside morphed into a field of pale flowers, with headstones interspersed throughout, ultimately leading up to a neighboring hill with a small wooden structure at its top, a pair of fountains next to it.

"-but that building, that entire hillside has never existed before now. I do not know it, nor do I know of it."

"Ah," the girl began, stepping alongside her. "that is the Hunter's Workshop, the hill is part of the Hunter's Dream. At least, all the land not covered in ash is a part of the dream. That is where the good hunter may rest on their journey, where I attend to them."

"And before now, you'd never heard of this place, had you?"

"No, I had not."

The two of them went into thought. They were very alike, but also different. Their roles, their homes, their purpose was much the same, but they both felt far different than they should. Their worlds were not supposed to connect like this, they were likely not even supposed to know of each other's existence. So their worlds had somehow become one, that much could be inferred. But what of their appearance? It was clear that neither the Firekeeper nor the Doll looked the way they should. In that case, there were only a few major possibilities.

"Doll, do you recognize my face? Does it strike a chord with you at all?" the woman asked.

"No, it does not. Actually, I was just about to ask you the same thing."

"I'm sorry, but you don't look like any unkindled I've ever met."

"Nor do you resemble any of the hunters I have cared for."

"Then if you are not of my world, or yours-"

"Then we should consider the possibility that, however unlikely-"

"There is a third world that has merged with ours."

Maybe there was another possibility, but at that moment, it was the only one that made any sense. A third universe, alien to the both of them, had merged along with the two of theirs. It would certainly explain their new bodies and mannerisms. Who was to say they didn't actually know each other, and would just remember in time? But for now neither could really say.

"Well," the Firekeeper began. "regardless of our circumstances, the fact remains that we are stuck like this for the time being. But how did this happen?"

The Doll looked to be in thought already on the matter when she returned her attention to the woman.

"What was the last thing that happened before you awoke?"

"I…I was watching my champion, they had just finished defeating the soul of the lords of cinder, and were about to link the fire. It is the most powerful artifact in our world, and each time it is kindled all will reset."

"The same could be said for me. My hunter had just bested Gehrman, the first hunter, and was about to be embraced by the old one that created the Hunter's Dream."

The Firekeeper rubbed her temples and pressed the spectacles on her face upwards, her face contorting in frustration and her head aching with frustration.

"So our worlds reset at the same time, and somehow, a third world was drawn in. This is utter madness, but I can't think of any other way to explain it."

Frowning, the Doll felt something close to frustration herself as the sheer ridiculousness of the situation set in. For some reason it really didn't sit well with her, as if such a thing was wrong on every level. But even with this mounting irritation, the fact remained that something had to be done about this situation. She did not desire to remain in this vastly altered state, nor did she believe the Firekeeper grinding her teeth nearby would like to stay as she was. But how to solve this? Neither of them seemed to possess the ability to change the very fabric of their reality, and neither had any purpose beyond serving their respective champions. Speaking of which, she had yet to receive a new hunter, and Gehrman had not returned to his post. There was no one else around but the two of them, so no 'champion of ash' as the FIrekeeper had called them had arrived yet either. That in itself was a problem. Without their champions, how were they to know of the outside world? How were they to fulfill their purpose? How-

"Listen, Doll, I have something to say concerning our situation." The woman spoke suddenly, breaking the girl from her thoughts.

"I believe, that the best way to solve this problem, is to recreate the events that led to our being trapped here to begin with. Perhaps we might become unstuck, as it were."

The Doll processed this.

"I understand, but there is still a great problem. I require a good hunter."

"And I a champion of ash. With those we swore to guide, we could unravel the mystery as to what has befallen our worlds, perhaps we might even save them. But to do that, we must have warriors, fighters, sorcerers, scholars, heroes who can face down the unknown and persevere in the darkest of times. I do not know how a hunter is called upon to your world, but in mine…"

She and the Doll turned to the bell atop Firelink Shrine.

"When the bell tolls, the unkindled will rise, and so too a champion of ash. It may even bring forth this hunter you speak of as well. In any case, it is worth a try."

Unable to form a solid argument against such an idea, the Doll nodded in agreement, and joined the Firekeeper in ascending the tower. Once at the top, the two shot each other one last look of hesitation, then rang the bell. As the Firekeeper covered her ears, forgetting in her excitement the volume of such a large instrument, the Doll peered over the ledge at the cemeteries below. For a moment, all was still. Then, at last, one of the coffins in the ashen hill slowly slid open. At the same time, a hand shot out from in front of one of the headstones in the field. From the coffin, a small young woman with hair of snow garbed in fine white cloth and brandishing an ornate straight sword arose, ash falling off her as she opened her bright blue eyes. In the flower covered field, a taller, almost beast like woman of raven hair topped with feline ears garbed in a simple grey coat and pants clawed her way out from the earth, amber eyes wide as she gasped for breath. And so, the two caretakers gazed upon their new charges.

A snow white champion of ash.

And a wild black hunter of beasts.

* * *

 **A/N:** **And that's how it begins. I know some of you are expecting me to go back to doing Spider of the Stars, but I'm sad to say that I've really just lost all interest in that one. So if you followed it, I'm very sorry.**

 **For those who are new, I welcome any questions and concerns you have about how this new story will go, what sort of rules will change, all that stuff.**

 **Hope you enjoyed the beginning! Please be sure to review, it really helps me know if I'm doing a good job or not. Till next time! Dark Novelist out.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: First Outings Part 1**

* * *

The snow haired girl and the raven haired woman locked gazes as they both finished climbing out of their respective tombs, ash and dirt falling off them. Each looked just as confused as the other, both probably wondering why they had just emerged from the grave so suddenly, amongst a myriad of other things like: where did that girl get that scar? Are those cat ears on that woman's head? What's with that hairstyle? Is she some sort of demon? Who are you? Who am I? And so forth. Neither really knew why, but both could feel a trace familiarity about the other, though as to why was unknown. The shared staring came to a halt as the Firekeeper and the Doll came down from the tower to address the newcomers.

"Salutations, new friends!" the Doll called cheerfully to the two. "I'm going to assume you are both very confused as to what just happened and what's going on?"

The snow haired nodded, the raven haired grunting in acknowledgement as she stiffly walked up to join them.

"To be frank, so are the two of us." The Firekeeper stated, rubbing her forehead at the awful ache developing there.

"We aren't completely sure of all of the details, but as best we can ascertain we are all caught in some sort of convergence, a merging of multiple worlds."

"Now, now," the Doll interjected. "We mustn't forget our manners. Why not start with introductions?"

"Er, of course. My apologies. Greetings, newly undead. I am a Firekeeper, here to attend to your needs."

"I am a Doll, here to serve you for as long as you remain here. Tell me, can you recall your names?"

The recently arisen shook their heads in unison.

"I can't remember." Spoke the snow haired.

"Me either." Seconded the raven haired.

"I see." Acknowledged the Firekeeper. "Then, for now let us call you by the roles you are here to fulfill."

She turned to the snow haired.

"By your garb, and the way in which you arose, I am to assume you will be my new champion of ash. Welcome, ashen one."

"Then I guess that would make you the hunter I have been waiting for." Said the Doll as she approached the raven haired. "You are certainly dressed like a hunter, but I see that unlike the ashen one you were not reawaken with a weapon in hand."

"Perhaps my champion was once a noble of some sort, she looks the part well enough."

For reasons she could not explain, the newly christened Hunter felt irritation at those words. Feeling it unnecessary to voice something unfounded, however, she said nothing. The Doll seemed to be undeterred by the proclamation, and instead gently took the Hunter's hand in her own.

"It's quite alright. The workshop surely has something that will suit my hunter just fine. Why don't we go have a look, and I'll explain to you what this is all about?"

The Hunter stiffened a bit at the contact, feeling only cold metal from the touch, but was more concerned with getting answers at the moment. Nodding in acknowledgement, the Doll then led her down the hill towards the small building sitting at its end.

"Well," began the Firekeeper. "we had best do the same, Ashen One. Come along, I will show you to your new home."

"…very well." Came a short reply.

Turning, the Firekeeper walked back into Firelink Shrine, the Ashen One close behind her. After showing her snow haired companion to a small alcove laden with cloth that would serve as a bed for the champion, getting a mildly unamused expression in response, the Firekeeper then directed her charge to the bonfire in the shrine's center.

"As I said before, events have caused both the Doll and my worlds to combine, as well as possibly a third. Neither she nor myself are meant to be fighters, only caretakers, so we have no way of investigating the outside world without great risk. To remedy this, we have called forth both you and that hunter. In my world, the champion of ash is the latest in a long line of heroes that is chosen to ensure the survival of the age of fire. Their task is to find the Lords of Cinder, beings with mighty souls that have succeeded in the aforementioned task but abandoned their posts, and to return them to their thrones."

The Firekeeper gestured to the large stone thrones positioned in a half circle overlooking the bonfire.

"Since the lords will not come of their own volition, they must be brought here by force…even if it means bringing back only their ashes."

The Ashen One took a moment to let the gravity of those words sink in before motioning for her caretaker to continue.

"But the lords are not the only beings with powerful souls in this world. Many others will block your way, challenge you to prove your strength. With the way things are now, I find it only right to assume that most if not all of the lords and their guardians have been altered like the Doll and I, possibly even like you."

"So, you're asking me to dive headfirst into danger in order to find out what's going on outside this shrine?" inquired the Ashen One.

"Put bluntly, yes. I have faith in you, for those of ash cannot truly die. It is a curse on your kind, every death will end only in your rebirth. You will return to life until you have completed your task. It is no power of mine that causes this, merely the way our world is."

While the Ashen One learned all of this, the Hunter was listening to a similar speech given by the Doll as she looked through the handful of spare hunting armaments left behind in the workshop.

"Yharnam is besieged by a plague of beasts, at the heart of it all is an all-consuming nightmare." The Doll explained.

"As a hunter of beasts, it is your duty to, well hunt. Face down the beasts overrunning Yharnam, and slaughter them before they can do the same to you. The plague that spawns them is within you as well, I'm afraid, however this is to your benefit. You can harvest the blood memories of those you slay, and turn their strength into your own. You are strong enough to stand a chance against even the most ferocious of beasts."

The Hunter paused to inspect a saw toothed cleaver, examining the trigger mechanism on its handle before stepping back and pressing it. The blade snapped upwards into a position at the top of its hilt, transforming the crude saw into a slightly less crude light polearm. Impressed as she was with the craftsmanship, it did not suit the Hunter. _Too short, and just a bit too unbalanced._ She thought before putting it back and turning to the Doll.

"But what is to stop me from suddenly transforming into a beast myself? I have the plague in my blood, won't I turn into a monster as well?" she asked.

The automaton shook her head.

"The chance always exists, and sadly many hunters meet such a fate, but it is far less likely for you, since the dream has already bonded to you."

The Hunter stopped reaching for the next weapon she saw, and turned slowly back to the Doll.

"Dream? What dream?"

"That is where we currently are. The Hunter's Workshop exists within the Hunter's Dream, our own little safe haven so to speak."

"But if this place is safe, why not share it with everyone? Would they not be safe from the beasts?"

The Doll sighed heavily.

"I'm afraid it's not up to me, good hunter. Though, I admire your thoughtfulness. Your true strength, however, lies in the fact that you are, in most senses of the word, immortal. You cannot know true death until the nightmare is destroyed."

The Hunter was still for a few moments, processing the automaton's words. She was in for far more than she first believed, if the notion of her repeatedly being killed could be said so casually. Eventually, she responded to the Doll with a slow nod of acceptance before resuming her task of searching for a weapon. Satisfied that her charge had a grasp of the challenge before them, the Doll resumed her speech.

"Keep your wits about you, good hunter. The fusion that has befallen our world, the Firekeeper's, and perhaps another has likely made drastic changes to the one we once knew. You will surely face great perils on the journey ahead."

"But the Ashen One and I are the only ones between the four of us who can actively do anything about it. Very well, it seems I'm left with little choice but to go along with this. I just hope that whoever I am, I'm able to actually make use of these weapons."

A steel bladed cane soon tore through the air as an extension of multiple blades, connected by a thin chord before retracting back into its usual shape. Giving the weapon another few swings to test its feel, the Hunter decided that it would serve for the time being. She could always find something else later. Strapping the cane opposite a flintlock sidearm on her waist, she turned once more to the Doll.

"So, where do I start?"

For her part, the Ashen One was glancing over a small handful of scrolls that had been lying beside her in her coffin. The sword she had risen with certainly was nice, but if things were truly as chaotic as her caretaker said they were, she'd need more than just steel to see her through. The scrolls were meant to be instructions in the art of what the Firekeeper called sorcery, referred to by some as simply "the soul arts". Normally, the Ashen One was told, a catalyst such as a staff or wand was required to project sorceries, but a bit of experimentation showed that her longsword doubled as such a catalyst. A couple of beginner's spells, variations of a "soul arrow", were all that she had at the time, so she would have to make an effort to find more in her travels.

"Well, I've made as many preparations as I can. I suppose it's time I departed." The Ashen One said decisively, making her way back to the Firekeeper.

The caretaker nodded, then gestured toward the bonfire.

"Place your hand upon the bonfire, and concentrate. It will take you to where your journey shall begin, and when you feel it time to return simply locate another bonfire and think of this place." She explained.

Trying to calm her growing nerves, the Ashen One knelt down and reached toward the coiled sword. Surprisingly, the flames flickering along its length did not burn, only provided a comforting warmth. Closing her eyes, the Ashen One concentrated on departing the shrine. In moments, a golden mist began to surround her, the Firelink Shrine beginning to fade away.

"May the flames guide thee." The Firekeeper's spoke softly through the mist.

An instant later the Ashen One was gone.

Down below, just outside the workshop, the Hunter bid the Doll a final farewell before kneeling down in front of the lowest headstone.

"Farewell, good Hunter. May you find your worth in the waking world." The automaton bid cryptically, watching the raven haired woman vanish into mist.

* * *

When the strange sensation of transporting between worlds finally passed, the Hunter found herself kneeling in front of a curious looking lantern in place of a headstone. Standing up, she took in her new surroundings. The Hunter was now standing atop a three way intersection that seemed awkwardly placed in a large town that, for reasons she could not explain, looked to be very old fashioned, much like the workshop she had come from. Gothic architecture rose and fell everywhere she looked, cobble stone streets lit only by steadily moving torchlights against the fading sun that hung overhead. Just behind her was a long ladder that looked to lead to the streets below, more specifically to a large building surrounded on all sides by jagged gates, with only the front entrance opened. To the left was a gate that looked to be tightly shut, and she could just make out a lever on the opposite side through the bars. To her right was the least obstructed path so far, leading into the town through a series of short drops. A number of angry and pained cries rose from somewhere in the distance behind her, followed by an inhuman screeching that seemed to come from a bridge somewhere in the upper levels of the town.

"Well, can't go left, down could be a dead end, and right looks the least occupied. Right it is." The Hunter muttered to herself.

Deciding to investigate the monstrous screeching, as it was the first real seen of a beast to hunt, she proceeded down the path to the right with the intention of circling back around to find it. Scarcely more than a handful of paces down the path, the Hunter found a man with arms that looked a little too long for a normal person standing around a corner, adorned in what looked like the garb of a normal citizen if not for the sickle clutched tightly in his right hand. She didn't even have a chance to try and say something to the stranger before he came screaming towards her, wildly swinging his sickle. With reflexes that seemed to come from somewhere deep within, the Hunter narrowly managed to step back in time to avoid getting skewered, but not enough to escape the blow entirely. The sickle's tip left a shallow but stinging cut across her cheek, blood already starting to run out of the open wound. This, coupled with the incomprehensible snarling coming from the crazed man made it clear he had nothing but violent intent towards the Hunter. As the man made to lunge at her again, she drew the cane from her side, waited to duck under his swing, and then plunged the blade into his gaping mouth, piercing his brain. The crazed man twitched for a moment, then went limp. Pulling her weapon out from her attacker's skull, the Hunter flicked as much residual gore from the blade as she could, drawing her pistol with her free hand.

"I guess I should count myself lucky, it looks like even if I don't remember anything, my body does." She mused before turning to the first drop off.

Another man like the first stood below, staring up at a burning cross that held something that may have once been human upon it. Chances were this person wasn't friendly either, and the Hunter would rather not take the risk a second time. Quietly, she descended from the walkway and crept up to the man, pulled back her arm, and ran her cane through his heart. A low groan and a slight shudder, and the man fell into the fire he had been observing, making a loud clamor as he crashed into the kindling at its base. The Hunter was about to move on down some nearby stairs and into the street, when the sound of metal scraping against stone coupled with several sets of hurried footsteps reached her ears. Turning toward the street, she saw a trio of men running towards her, one carrying a pitchfork, another with a torch and a feeble wooden plank held up like a shield, and the third at their head wielding a torch and dragging a wicked axe behind him with an arm that was much too long. All of them had fur growing all over their bodies, sticking out of holes in their clothing, and on the shield bearer growing out of bandages haphazardly slung about his head. The leader charged toward her, thrusting his torch forward.

"You are not wanted here!" the man cried as he swung.

The torch was simple enough to dodge, but the fact that it was quickly accompanied by a stab from the pitchfork carrier made total evasion impossible. The Hunter winced as sharp points stabbed deep into her shoulder, stopping the movement of her cane. Seeing the leader lifting his axe, she quickly bit back the pain and brought her pistol up, firing point blank into the man's face. The axe wielder fell back into his allies, staggering them and giving the Hunter enough time to reach into a small case affixed to her hip and draw a sizable syringe from its confines. According to the Doll, this specialized blood was her lifeline in situations of high risk. Unwilling to contemplate whether or not her injuries justified its usage, the Hunter swiftly jammed the syringe into her leg, wincing at the forced intrusion. But just as she'd been told, the pain preventing the usage of her cane wielding arm numbed instantly, damaged flesh sewn back together as if by magic. Without another moment's hesitation, the Hunter activated the cane's whip function and swung her newly repaired limb with all her might. Her enemies were left defenseless against the sudden sweeping blades, caught in a tangled mess of limbs from their ally as they were, and she watched as cloth, fur, and blood erupted from already mangled faces. The torch bearer dropped dead, but surprisingly the pitchfork wielder remained standing still, clutching at his shredded face. A silver bullet through his cranium put a stop to his motions, and he fell beside his comrades.

"Damn it…" the Hunter cursed, turning to the used syringe.

She had not brought many with her to begin with, and now she was down one from that. Sighing, she stepped over her aggressors and made her way down the street, stopping once to dispose of a rifleman trying to play dead. Not long down the road a hurdle much bigger than the last few presented itself. In the center of square, bordered by a set of massive doors, a group of at least a dozen or more crazed citizens were standing about in a mob around yet another burning cross with a creature's corpse on it. However, there was something distinctly different about this one from the rest she had seen on the way here. The dead beast on the cross was larger, more deformed with pitch black fur, and a stark white mask that seemed melded onto its face. Like when she first locked eyes with the Ashen One, a faint familiarity rose within her, but still she could not name it. All that she knew was that whatever the significance of the masked creature, it evoked feelings of rage, fear, and a massive spike in adrenaline.

"Beast! A foul beast!"

The sudden outcry of one of the mob brought the Hunter back to her senses, just in time for a bullet to tear through one of her feline ears. She barely managed to cry out in pain before a set of ravenous teeth clamped around her leg. Pain and anger at her inattention coursed through her as she shot a glance down at an emaciated dog viciously biting into her. Self-preservation suddenly overshadowed any other thought, the Hunter straining to just dodge a second bullet before ruthlessly slicing the dog in half with her cane. Now acting on pure instinct, she immediately looked in the direction of the bullets to see another rifleman standing past the mob, with a second one standing on a parked carriage. Baring her teeth, the Hunter roared with anger before charging the encroaching mob head on, slicing away and shooting at anything that got between her and the one who shot her. In what felt like seconds, she pounced upon the street side rifleman, bisecting him vertically as she had the dog before dodging a shot from the elevated one behind her. Turning on her heal, the Hunter crouched low before springing high into the air. The rifleman, even in his plagued crazed state, was too shocked at the sudden display of superhuman prowess to even think of firing his weapon. He fell back as a segmented blade cut his firearm apart, the Hunter firing a shot into his leg and making him fall to his back before landing in front of him. Panic surged through every fiber of the man's being as he frantically back away.

"H-Help me! Oh god he-"

The rifleman's cries were cut short by the butt of his own gun being bashed against his skull. For a time, the only sounds in a small square in central Yharnam were that of hard wood being repeatedly struck against something solid. Panting as she came down from the sudden rush, the Hunter dropped the remnants of the rifle and looked down at the bloody pulp that used to be a human being's head. Realization of her sudden brutality began to set in, as she then noticed the current state of her apparel, along with the sudden silence surrounding her. Covered head to toe in the blood of the crazed townsfolk, she slowly turned to gaze back upon the mob, now cut to pieces in various gruesome ways all over the square behind her. She had slaughtered them all, mercilessly. Somehow, she expected to feel a greater sense of remorse for ending so many human lives, but just couldn't bring herself to care as much as she should have. Was it the fact they were all clearly driven mad by the beast plague? Or, dare she say it…

"Did I enjoy killing them?"

No. No matter what, something deep within her conscience spoke otherwise. She had lost her temper, murder was not something she strove for. Sad though it may be, these people were beyond help, and this was the only path left. But, amidst all that, she also had to wonder how she had not simply been overrun by her enemy's sheer numbers. Feeling about herself, the Hunter found a myriad of cuts and slashes in her garb, yet hardly any injuries remained. The most serious damage she retained was the hole in one of her sensitive feline ears, and even that felt numb. Said ears then twitched at the sound of heavy footsteps nearby, once again breaking her from her thoughts. Hoping the Doll would be able to explain what had just happened, the Hunter collected herself and retrieved her threaded cane before cautiously approaching the sound. Walking through a narrow path to the other side of the gate bordering the square, she looked down to see an even bigger courtyard complete with a fountain laying beyond, and lumbering about near the door was a bloated brute of a man clutching a piece of masonry in his right hand. The brute groaned incoherently, eliciting a low growl upon spotting her. Keeping the gated walkway between them, the Hunter steadily approached the stairs leading down to the new foe, formulating a way to deal with something that was likely quite strong, given its size. The brute didn't give her much time to think, however, as the moment its target passed the metal gate separating them it pounced with inhuman speed, slamming the brick in its hand down. Not expecting such speed from a thing of such size, the Hunter took the full force of the blow, the impact audibly breaking several bones and hurling her backwards through a number of nearby wooden crates and over the small ledge they were obscuring from view.

Landing hard on the platform below, the Hunter cried out as best she could with her broken ribs stabbing into her lungs. As quickly as one could move with multiple broken limbs and throbbing with intense pain, she dropped her threaded cane and reached for another syringe. Through blurring vision, she could make out the brute leaping down to finish her off, steadily approaching and raising its hands for a final blow. She wouldn't make it in time. The Doll said she would experience death multiple times, perhaps this was to be the first. Rather, it would have been, had a pair of rabid dogs not suddenly leapt at the brute and attacked, drawing its attention away from the wounded Hunter. Not questioning her incredible luck, the Hunter quickly applied the syringe, pumping healing blood through her veins just in time to retain her consciousness. Collecting herself, she rose to see the brute just finishing off the dogs. Furious that its prey had recovered because of a chance distraction, the brute roared before drawing back its brick wielding hand for another crushing blow. The Hunter's angry amber eyes narrowed in concentration, waiting for just the right moment before firing her pistol. Her adversary stumbled down to a knee in surprise, not expecting its hand to be deflected via silver bullet.

"Not this time." The Hunter growled, stepping forward.

Without knowing why, she had foregone retrieving her threaded cane and instead drove her hand forward, watching as it suddenly morphed into the claws of a beast before plunging into the brute's ribcage. With an inhuman growl, the Hunter thrust her claws in deeper, then pulled down and back swiftly, forcibly tearing a huge gash in the brute's chest and sending it flying into the wall. A low gurgle as blood and entrails spilled out of the large creature's wounds as all that followed, a clear sign that the brute would not be getting back up. Letting out a heavy sigh, the Hunter turned to her transformed hand. Already, it had returned to its normal state, as if nothing had ever changed.

"The Doll said the plague would be my strength. I suppose this is what she meant." She mused, retrieving her threaded cane.

As much as she wanted to dwell on the grim transformation she had just undergone, previous encounters told her that dwelling on something for too long often led to the Hunter being nearly killed. Turning away from the dead brute, she glanced at her new surroundings, a narrow street with some steps leading downward toward one of the larger buildings, carriages and metal cages hastily abandoned all about. On hearing more barking, she looked down from the landing she stood on and saw more dogs, these ones thankfully secure in the metal cages. Though, the opened latches on some others nearby made her rethink her sense of security. At least now she knew where the dogs that inadvertently saved her life had come from. Cautiously pressing onward, disposing of any more escaped dogs that crossed her path, the Hunter stopped at the bridge connecting the street to the building and looked out. Not far away, connected to what looked to be a long ladder sat a large bridge similar to the one she had spotted on arrival. Whether it was the same one she had seen earlier, she wasn't sure.

But at least now she had a destination in mind.

Returning her attention to the walkway leading into the large building, the Hunter noticed faint torchlight rising up the steps around the corner, rapidly approaching and growing in brightness. Shortly, the source of the light was revealed, a tall, lanky beast that had once been a man stood at the corner, short pants and a loose coat clinging to limbs stretched beyond reasonable limits for the clothing. Its body was dark and covered with bright red fur in various levels of intensity, its eyes a beastly yellow, lupine fangs stuck out from above its bearded maw, and in its oversized hands it carried a torch and a saw that looked built for two regular sized humans to wield. Much like the brute moments before, the beast-man released a fierce snarl upon spotting the Hunter, before charging forward with its armaments flailing about in a blind attempt to hit her. Not wanting to have another close call, the Hunter backpedaled well out of the beast-man's range, waiting for it to exhaust itself after the flurry of blows before stepping back forward and slashing away with her cane's segmented blade. By the time she subdued the creature, its torch bearing arm had nearly been cleaved from its body, its back and front not unlike what one would expect to see from a victim of punishing lashings. Glad to have not been brought to near death for the third time in a row, the Hunter continued on into the building, searching for a way towards the ladder she had spotted earlier. After putting down a couple more beast-men and a handful of riflemen lingering outside, she had arrived in what appeared to be a sewer. As expected, the stench was gut wrenching, and a closer look at what appeared to be corpses proved that there were things in the awful substance covering the ground that were very much alive.

On the bright side, she could finally see the damn ladder she'd been looking for.

Wading through the filth, the Hunter steadily made her way through a small mob of half decomposed corpses littering the sewer base, even having to fend off some overgrown carnivorous birds that dropped from the rafters, but she finally reached the ladder. Up close, the thing was daunting in its sheer size, but at this rate she just wanted out of the damn sewer. A long climb later, the Hunter arrived at the base of the large bridge, just as she'd hoped. To the left sat what looked to be an elevator of sorts, but now that she had finally reached the bridge she wasn't about to risk losing her way. Stopping a few moments to catch her breath after the climb, she then ascended the short steps leading onto the bridge. But of course, the moment she arrived at the top step, opposition once again presented itself. Just down the way was another small mob of crazed townsfolk, already making their way toward her. The Hunter growled in annoyance, but readied her weapons nonetheless, prepared to put them down just like she had everything else so far. However, past the mob she could just barely spot another brute and a torch bearer move to something large and dark obscuring the opposite end of the bridge. The unknown object, soon revealed to be a massive wooden ball covered in oil, was then lit aflame by the torch bearer, before being pushed down the bridge toward her and the mob by the brute. The mob rushed ever forward, unaware of the boulder of betrayal rapidly advancing on them. To their confusion, the Hunter leapt onto a balcony on the bridge, cornering herself for them.

And also putting herself out of the path of a flaming ball of death, which the mob weren't as lucky in avoiding.

The larger portion of her opposition defeated, the Hunter stepped out of the balcony and resumed her advance to the other end, the brute now coming down the steps to face her. Much like the last one, it seemed to be concealing its true speed, waiting to get in close enough its prey would have no means of dodging when it struck. But, having learned from painful mistakes, the Hunter was already reading its movements, and quickly stepped to the side of a wide swing, throwing the brute off balance. Before it could right itself, she collapsed her cane back into a solid blade and ran the behemoth through, not dealing fatal damage but injuring it greatly regardless. The Hunter stepped back as her foe turned and swung about wildly in pain, attempting to pummel her with a torrent of rapid punches with its brick. Just when it seemed it would land a blow, its target blew away its blow with a well shot of her pistol, leaving it to gaze in terror as an inhuman hand tore into its bandaged face. The Hunter quickly dragged her claws, and thus the brute's head, into the cobblestone pavement of the bridge, creating a sizeable indent in the stones and silencing the bloated creature. Withdrawing her once again human hand, she glared toward the torch bearer, who was now backing away, cowering behind its flimsy wooden shield at the woman who had just murdered a thing nearly twice her size with little effort. Unknowingly, the torch bearer had put himself near a ledge, too focused in fleeing to see where he went. The Hunter simply glared and raised her pistol shooting a single bullet through his shield, not truly meaning to kill with it.

Not with the bullet, anyway.

Staggered back by the gunshot, the torch bearer felt the ground vanish from under his feet, as he tumbled over the ledge. Waiting a moment to hear the resulting thud of an impact, the Hunter reloaded her sidearm and continued on her way. Another short series of steps saw her to a change in scenery, a cemetery of some sort by the number of headstones and coffins lying about, with a statue of an angel set towards the center and another flight of stairs leading out to the right. The sudden sound of steel cutting into flesh brought her attention toward the back of the cemetery, where she now noticed a number of bodies lying in still drying puddles of blood. Following the trail of corpses with her eyes, the Hunter quickly identified the source of the sounds. A tall but portly grey haired man, dressed similarly to herself, stood above a still breathing civilian, clearly affected by the plague like all the rest. The man lifted a strangely designed dual headed axe, then swiftly brought it down upon the victim, before ripping it out and chopping one final time to ensure the infected would not survive. Finished with his work for the moment, the possible fellow hunter stood up straight, reaching up towards his face fiddling with something as he took a heavy breath.

"Foul beasts all over the shop, I say." He said, in a boisterous yet somehow sinister tone. "No doubt you will be one of them, sooner or later. Best to end your suffering now."

The man turned toward her, revealing a neatly combed out hairstyle, and eyebrows and a gentlemanly moustache so thick that they obscured his eyes and mouth. The latter, however, was revealed a moment later when the portly fellow opened his lips to release another deep breath, at the same time showing off inhuman canines. Despite his words, he was clearly affected by the plague himself, probably one of the hunters the Doll had mentioned who lost himself to it in the midst of the hunt. The raven haired Hunter cautiously stepped forward, already knowing that talking the former huntsman was useless. She had barely gone a few steps when the fallen huntsman rotated his axe so that the wooden shaft holding the blades rested upon his shoulder, at the same time revealing the brass barrel of a blunderbuss at the base of the weapon's shaft. He fired the moment she tried to dart behind a tree for cover, managing to grave her leg with a number of stinging silver pellets. Wincing in pain, the Hunter bit her lip and suppressed the urge to expend another dosage of healing blood, opting instead to vault over the headstone and use her own firearm to get a shot off at him. The fallen huntsman reflexively turned so that his axe blade would stop the bullet, then used the same motion to switch the weapon back into a fighting stance in time to halt a slash at his head. The Hunter looked up in shock as he shoved her back.

"Good instincts, my girl. But you'll have to do a little better than that." The fallen huntsman taunted.

The Hunter shook her head of her shock, and instead raised her weapons to continue. Her opponent smirked beneath his large facial hair, then charged forward into a volley of quick and powerful blows, forcing the younger hunter of beasts to focus solely on dodging. The Hunter grit her teeth, trying to spot an opening amidst the seemingly endless onslaught and finding none. A sudden presence behind her brought the realization she'd been backed into a cluster of headstones, out of room to dodge and unable to avoid the large axe that cut viciously into her side. Letting out a cry of pain, the Hunter glared at her older opponent before firing her sidearm straight into his face, slashing across his chest with her cane when he recoiled before finally getting him off from her with a kick, wincing as the axe blade cut more flesh upon leaving her body. The fallen huntsman, growled inhumanly as he staggered back, clutching his axe tightly before turning in time to see the raven haired woman just finish applying a healing shot, her previous injury closing. Somewhere deep inside, admiration for the Hunter's perseverance in spite of her injuries arose. However, it quickly became subdued by the coppery scent of freshly spilled blood invading his nostrils. Standing back up to his full height despite his injuries, he inhaled to take in more of the intoxicating aroma.

"Ohhhhh…what's that smell? That sweet blood, oh it sings to me…" he inhaled deeply again. "Why, it's enough to make a man sick."

The Hunter watched her opponent break out into insane laughter before he lunged at her again, once again delivering a rapid volley of blows, now intermixed with an occasional shot from his blunderbuss. Not wanting to be backed into another corner, and doubtful the madman would fall to the same trick twice, the Hunter chose to meet the blows head on, transforming her cane into whip form as she matched and weaved around his strikes, her body quickly healing up any new injuries made on her body. The fallen huntsman, however, did not have the same benefit of his younger adversary, and felt every slash and cut that fell upon him, eventually wearing him down to the point he could no longer keep up his quick strikes. As if in response, the beast plague coursing through him began to rise up, seeking to overtake his body entirely in an act of self-preservation. Before it could succeed, however, one sloppy swing, deflected by a quick shot from the Hunter's pistol, and its host was thrown entirely off balance. The fallen huntsman swallowed back a cry of pain as his bones began to change shape, fingers turning into claws and fur sprouting rapidly from his flesh. Knowing even in his mad state that he had seconds left before he became a beast entirely, the fallen huntsman made to swing his trusty axe one last time. Like the blow before it, a single well placed shot threw the attack off course, causing the axe to lodge itself firmly inside of a headstone. An instant after, the Hunter drove her own claws into the elder huntsman's chest, cutting into the vital organs within before ripping her hand back out, the force sending the fallen huntsman to the bloodstained earth. Wheezing from his no doubt fatal injuries, he mustered what strength he had left to gaze at the young woman who had bested him, panting with a fierce glare on her face as she readied to face him again should he rise.

"Heh…heh…heh…not bad…." He half growled, rising blood in his mouth slurring his words. "A fine…hunter…you…will…make…"

Satisfied that he could retain as much of his humanity as he had, the fallen huntsman closed his eye and collapsed, finally succumbing to his wounds. The Hunter watched as the partially transformed man faded away into mist, the ethereal mass soon condensing into a solid glowing light that hovered above the ground. Before she could even consider investigating the strange object, it flew into towards her, vanishing inside her chest. A bizarre sensation coursed through the Hunter, as she felt something in the very depths of her soul call out and intertwine with the new presence, before a binding light erupted all around. When it cleared, the Hunter found herself in what appeared to be a classroom of some kind, other young men and women of various colors and sizes seated around her. Looking about she was surprised to see a girl completely identical to the Ashen One sitting on her left, differing only in dress and hairstyle, studiously looking over the papers strewn about in front of her.

"Well," the Ashen One's doppelganger began in a haughty tone. "I'm certain that unlike _some_ of us,"

She paused to turn to a short dark haired girl and a tall busty blonde with wild hair on the opposite side of the Hunter with a scrutinizing glare. The act was met by a shrug of indifference form the blonde and a sad pout from the shorter girl.

"Professor Port will find my essay more than satisfactory. Would you say the same about yours, Blake?"

Blake? Who is Blake?

Before whoever the doppelganger was referring to could reply, the door to the classroom flew open. The Hunter watched as a finely dressed man who bore a striking resemblance to the fallen huntsman strode in, stroking his thick moustache with one hand while the other rest behind him.

"Ah, pardon my lateness class. I got caught up talking to an old colleague over the phone and lost track of time." He said in the same boisterous tone, though without the sinister intent.

"Because that neeeeeeeeeeever happens, huh Blake?" said a new, whispered voice in a playful tone.

The Hunter found herself glancing to the side towards the speaker, revealed to be the blonde beside her. The taller woman had a cheeky grin and mischief sparkling in her deep lilac eyes, distracting the Hunter for a moment before she finally realized that the blonde was speaking to _her._

"Miss Xiao Long, something you'd like to share with the rest of the class?" asked the old gentleman, likely the Professor Port mentioned earlier.

"No, sir." The blonde quickly replied, falling back into a more proper posture and suppressing her grin.

"Then please do your best to refrain from making unnecessary conversation. Now where was I? Ah yes…"

As Port began to ramble about some sort of tale about his youth, the classroom suddenly filled with the same blinding light as before. The Hunter was back in the cemetery when it faded, the only difference now being the presence of a small lantern in front of the statue. Finding herself finally alone for a change, the Hunter approached the lantern and sat beside it, resting her weary body and trying to make sense of what she had just witnessed. What the hell was all of that? Who were those girls? Why did one of them look like the Ashen One? How did they know each other?

And above all else, who the hell is Blake?

* * *

 **A/N: Whew! That went on for longer than expected. I'll get to work on Weiss's side next, as this chapter is already long enough as is. Hope you enjoyed! Please be sure to review! Till next time! Dark Novelist out.**


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: First Outings Part 2**

* * *

When the strange golden mist finally dissipated, the Ashen One found herself sitting not in the shrine, but inside a significantly less ash covered room with a rough-hewn wooden door. Standing to explore further, her gaze wandered to several small slits lining the walls allowing faint slivers of light inside of the room. Trying to place where she had seen them before, she opened the door along the far wall and stepped outside. Finding herself atop the tower of a massive castle, suddenly the slim windows - _arrow slits_ in the previous chamber made sense. The castle had definitely withstood the elements for some time. For all their grandiose, the majestic walls surrounding the fortress were weathered and covered in moss. A faint wind whistled in and out of spaces where stones weathered with age and neglect had crumbled to dust. Making her way down a short flight of stairs alongside the tower, she was surprised see a small bonfire similar to the one she had used to get here crackling against the outer wall of the tower's main platform. Extending a hand toward the bonfire, she watched as it quickly sprang to life; her mere presence seeming to ignite it. Satisfied of a potential way out if needed, she turned toward the pair of spiral staircases to the left of it, hoping to find a way down. Right seemed to lead to an end tower, and possibly a way down were it not for the clearly sealed gate in front of another small tower.

"Seems I will be headed left, then." She said with a sigh.

Heading down the only possible way forward, the Ashen One found that she was not as alone as she seemed. Strewn about the surrounding ramparts were dozens of pale human-like figures. Their pale fingers and ashen skin shrouded sunken eyes staring vacantly in oblivion as lank strands of white hair similar to her own shifted in the breeze. A chill ran down her spine as she wondered if they resembled her own pallor not so long ago when she had supposedly been dead herself. The pale zombie-like figures were clad in tattered rags and remnants of something that vaguely resembled armor, so she assumed that they must have once been soldiers. Walking on she found several of them kneeling before strange looking black growths that would have resembled trees, were it not for the upper halves of pale humans growing horrifically out of them. Deeply disturbed by the sight, she made her way quietly past. As she reached a flat stretch of the staircase she came upon a dead but very tangible dragon perched among the decrepitude, as if holding court amongst the dead. Stunned by the discovery, she almost failed to notice one of the armored zombies move from his place along the wall to raise his sword and run towards her. Reflexively stepping to the side right as it began a down ward thrust of its blade, she made a quick succession of slashes across the creature's torso. Turning to face her with his sword still held high, the zombie groaned and swayed on its feet, stepping forward sluggishly before seeming to register pain and promptly collapsing to the ground. Shocked at her own movements, the Ashen One gazed at her now bloodied weapon

She had a feeling that having a sword right out of the grave meant that she was skilled with it, or at least she hoped was true and that it hadn't simply been a burial gift. But she had most certainly not expected to have reacted so swiftly to her first encounter with a threat. Clearly, this was not the first time she'd fought. Clutching her sword a good deal tighter, the Ashen One turned back towards the dead dragon just in time to see another zombie walk up from a stairway she hadn't realized was there. This one carried a lantern and a broken sword, and the moment it spotted her it let out a loud and inhuman wail. The majority of the zombies around the Ashen One covered their ears and curled up in fear, but a handful of soldiers came running up from behind the lantern bearer and down from the platform holding the majority of the dragon's corpse. Not nearly as confident that whatever swordsmanship she had would see her through a duel against multiple foes at once, the Ashen One instead chose to try putting the spells she had memorized to use. Pointing her sword at the nearest approaching soldier, she concentrated on forming a projectile, and within moments a small bolt of blue magic burst from her blade, sailing through the air and slamming directly into the attacker. The zombie staggered back from the blast, before falling over limply and lying still.

Smirking at the effectiveness of the soul arrow, the Ashen One quickly fired more to down the rest of her attackers, all with equal effect. With the soldiers and lantern bearer now laying lifelessly with smoke trailing from their magically induced wounds, she proceeded forward down the steps they had come from. Below was what looked to be the storage area of this tower, along with a ladder leading further down. Seeing that the rest of the ramparts were sealed off behind a crushed gate and several collapsed stones, which she found to be quite resilient against her magic when trying to blast them out of the way, the Ashen One continued down the ladder. A short walk through a narrow corridor led her back to the ramparts, and another split in the path. Soldiers were now quite plentiful, and seemed to have grouped upon the most straightforward path. A lone soldier patrolled aimlessly about a short flight of stairs leading back upwards, but the situation above was unclear. For all the Ashen One knew, there could have been even more opposition going up than going straight. Deciding to prioritize caution, she turned to the lower path, readying another soul arrow as an archer shambled towards her. The zombie had barely raised its crossbow before a bolt of magic was slung into its face, blasting it apart.

As the now headless archer fell to the stone floor, the Ashen One saw its allies steadily start to take notice of and march toward her. Stepping forward, sword raised, she prepared to meet her attackers, when suddenly a great shadow fell over all of them. The Ashen One looked up to see a very much alive dragon fly overhead, circling slowly before turning to perch upon another tower, turning its massive head their direction. Barely a moment had passed before flames began to flicker within the dragon's maw, and with a loud roar the winged reptile unleashed a torrent of flame on both the Ashen One and zombie soldiers alike. Crying out in pain at the searing heat, the Ashen One stumbled forward, throwing herself against a wall and desperately rolling against it to put herself out. Snarling above, dragon prepared to breathe flames upon her again, showing its intent with a sharp intake of breath as fire sparked into being within its jaws. Biting back the pain as much as she could, the Ashen One quickly bolted up the stairs previously occupied by her foes, stopping to cry out again once she reached the top, the dragon's fire passing by harmlessly behind her. Unable to withstand the burning consuming her entire body, she quickly reached into a satchel at her side and grasped a golden flask given to her by the Firekeeper before she left. With trembling hands, she drank from the flask, feeling the mysterious liquid within wash down her throat. In seconds, the majority of her injuries had healed, leaving behind only a few slight burns and some very singed robes.

Glad to be rid of most of her pain, the Ashen One looked to the flask, finding at least three or four solid chugs worth left inside of it. With so few uses, it would be folly to waste another to top off the lingering injuries, so she placed it back alongside an identical blue flask. The dragon seemed to have lost interest in her for the time being, and going back just to get roasted again didn't sound appealing, so the Ashen One decided to go forward from the path she had wandered onto. Just ahead of her was yet another tower, though this one admittedly looked to have a secure way down, and lacked any dragons. However, it was far from unoccupied. Marching out of the tower door, metallic armor clanking with each step, came a knight wielding an ornate sword and shield that stood well over six feet in height, body completely concealed under heavy armor decorated with engravings and a torn red cloth strewn over it as a make-shift tabard and cape. The knight stalked towards the Ashen One, moving its weapons into a fighting stance.

Apparently, everything here wanted to kill her, she thought as she pulled her sword forth once more.

The knight was much too close for her to ready another soul arrow, so the Ashen One readied her own sword as it charged forward at her in a surprisingly fast lunge. The knight moved as though its armor were little more than parchment, swift and, judging by the chunk of granite it cleaved off the nearby railing after a close dodge, incredibly strong despite the weight. The Ashen One barely had time to dodge, let alone land a blow of her own, with how relentless her opponent was. Eventually he overextended himself, leaving itself open as he lunged too far forward. Seizing her chance, she plunged her sword through the knight's back, managing to get through a chink in his armor. The knight groaned in pain has she kicked him free of her sword, but quickly rose back to his feet to continue his assault. However, his error had granted the snow haired champion of ash all the time she needed to ready a soul arrow. The blue bolt of magic sailed toward the knight, but much to the Ashen One's dismay it was deflected by the timely raising of the knight's shield. The effect was weakened dramatically, but it did succeed in staggering back the knight. Quickly, the Ashen One dove forward and slashed away relentlessly, until finally her armored adversary fell limply to the floor.

Panting in exhaustion, the Ashen One leaned against the doorway to the tower, trying to decide where to head next. Right lead up to the main platform of this tower, down lead away from the dragon, but potentially to more knights, and she could see the faint shadow of another zombie lying in wait.

"Well, the Firekeeper never told me this would be easy." She mused, choosing to descend the tower.

A swift casting of a soul arrow put down the would-be ambush from the zombie in the shadows, a thief judging by its attire and the dagger in its hand. Two more awaited on the floor below, shambling aimlessly until bolts of magic struck them down. After killing the last thief, the Ashen One felt a strange sort of fatigue wash over her, not physical, almost like her spirit itself was exhausted. Curious, she tried to cast another soul arrow, only to produce nothing but faint blue wisps. Whatever had come over her, it was likely due to her excessive use of magic. Reaching to the flasks at her side again, the Ashen One took the blue one instead of the golden. A quick drink, and she felt the fatigue wear off. Unlike the gold flask, the blue one appeared not to have as much of the precious restorative liquid left inside it, maybe enough for one more hearty drink.

"Guess I need to be more conservative with my magic," she chided herself.

Lesson learned, the Ashen One turned toward the exit, only to find another zombie soldier standing just outside with a ball of some sort clutched in its hand. She didn't realize that said ball was, in fact, a bomb, until it exploded against a handful of barrels nearby, which her newfound injuries confirmed to be packed full of black powder. Fortunately, the explosion itself had only just struck the Ashen One, leaving relatively few new wounds. The shockwave generated from such an explosion, however, sent her flying through a hole in the wooden floor to a much harder stone floor below. Ears ringing and blood running down her face, she grit her teeth before taking another sip of the golden healing flask. Just in time, too, for the moment she stood up a particularly tall zombie soldier with a halberd charged toward her, point first. Narrowly avoiding the polearm, she then growled out in frustration as she slashed into the soldier. It proved to be tougher to fell than its smaller counterparts, but not nearly as big a threat as the knight had been, and a few well-placed blows later the halberdier was as dead as the look in its empty eyes. Spotting another zombie nearby with a satchel of bombs, the Ashen One shot it down with a soul arrow without a second thought. Being blown up twice in the span of five minutes didn't seem like a good idea. Deciding it would be worth it to explore this lower floor at least a little to prevent any more surprises, the Ashen One collected herself and pressed onward.

Another zombie thief crossed her path, but it went down with one good stab through the back. She continued forward until she was met with a strangely placed jail cell, with a lone occupant sitting cross legged behind its bars. A rather ridiculous looking hood with two crude holes cut out for their eyes obscured the prisoner's face. Seeing the snow haired girl approach, the hooded prisoner looked up to address her.

"Well now, you don't look like a jailer." They greeted, their voice indicating a man of mature age.

The Ashen One was taken aback for a moment, having come to the assumption that everything in the castle was insane or zombified, and therefore incapable of speech. To hear an actual human being speaking to her was a nice change of pace, though the fact he was imprisoned here and likely a criminal of some sort made her wary.

"I am Greirat, of the Undead Settlement. Who might you be, young miss?" the prisoner continued.

"…I am afraid I do not recall my name." she answered eventually. "To the Firekeeper, I am just the Ashen One."

"Ah, an unkindled, then. You likely have a long journey ahead of you. If you want, I could be of assistance."

"How so? I'm not so sure I should trust someone behind bars. Though I will admit it is nice to find another sane human being," she replied.

Greirat laughed shortly at that.

"I can imagine. If you get me out of here, I can bring you items. Weapons, tools, trinkets, all sorts of useful things. It's why I came here in the first place. I've no need of such things, but others like you might."

Strangely enough, his words sounded sincere. A thief who stole for the benefit of others, not himself. Unusual indeed.

"I will consider your offer, but I've no idea where the key is." The Ashen One answered.

Greirat nodded.

"Fair enough, I suppose. Best of luck out there, Ashen One."

With that, she departed from the old thief's cell and made her way back to the floor she had fallen from. Needless to say, the zombie that had caused her fall didn't last very long after that. Finally getting out of the tower, the Ashen One dealt with a couple more soldiers before descending onto a series of tightly packed rooftops, with more of the disturbing human-tree growths and the relatively harmless zombies gathered around them. At least, they had proved to be harmless thus far, so when one of the shirtless ones stood up and walked toward her, its body distending and violently changing shape, she stopped in surprise. The zombie's entire torso erupted into a horrific black swirling mass, oozing whatever substance comprised its form all over as the malformed head of a serpent took shape and roared at the Ashen One. At the base of the writhing black mass, the original zombie could just barely still be seen, its flimsy legs somehow supporting the thing; its lifeless expression poking between a series of glowing red eyes.

But that still wasn't the worst part.

Just when it seemed like the violent transformation had finished, the newly formed serpent head screeched in what sounded almost like pain. Bone like white mass started to protrude from the upper half of its face, until a skeletal mask of sorts with burning red eyes took shape. The horrific sight struck a chord with something deep within the Ashen One, the monstrous visage evoking a visceral fear and a slightly less intense hatred. Imposing as the new foe was, there was a strange familiarity of sorts at having to face such a thing. A deeply ingrained instinct took hold of the Ashen One's actions, and she found herself dodging the monster's wild flails and bites with surprising swiftness, countering them with swift thrusts that to an onlooker made her seem like she was sliding across the very air itself. What should have been a long and arduous battle turned into a one sided slaughter in mere moments, as the Ashen One leapt onto a still standing column, held her sword at the ready, then spring boarded off the column at great speed to impale the face of the zombie the monster had sprouted from. The masked serpent screeched in agony, finally falling limp before disintegrating into mist. The Ashen One remained standing where she had landed for a time, coming off the sudden rush of adrenaline. What possessed her to move as she did, fight as she did just then was something she would like to know more of, and it was quite likely that her still unknown past played a part in it.

But for now, there was still more castle to explore. She had been sent here to get a grasp on the situation and find the Lords of Cinder, after all. Finally catching her breath, the Ashen One searched for a way down from the rooftops, not trusting their stability after the thrashing the monster she'd just slain had given it. Fortunately, she did not have to look far for a ladder. A zombie archer stood in wait on a balcony near the bottom, but a quick soul arrow took care of that. The balcony it had stood on looked to be crumbling and unsafe, so the Ashen One chose to instead enter the building she had been walking on top of until now. Inside she found a few more zombies, all easily dispatched, but then a familiar tall figure walked out from one of the inner doorways. Another knight, this one brandishing a spear and greatshield. Unlike the sword knight she had encountered on the ramparts, this one was much more defensive in its approach.

By holding a large shield like an impenetrable wall, moving it aside only for the briefest of moments for strikes with its spear, or to bash her with the shield itself, the Ashen One had few openings for a counter attack. Despite being indoors, the knight had the fortune to be fighting in a room just wide enough to make full use of its long weapon, making attempts to get closer rather difficult for the Ashen One. Try as she might, only occasionally did a swing of her sword strike the armored spearman, doing practically nothing to hinder its quick and powerful attacks. Deciding it was time to change strategy before that spear ended up running her through, the Ashen One backed away a good distance from the knight, well outside the reach of its spear. In response, the knight holstered its shield upon its back, then clutched its spear tightly with both hands before holding it at the waist, clearly preparing to charge her down. By now, the Ashen One had grown accustomed to the idea that her larger opponents were always faster than they should have been, so when the knight lunged all the way across the room toward her for a single mighty thrust of its spear, she gracefully rolled out of the way. Still recovering from putting all of its weight into that last attack, the knight could do nothing to stop the bloodstained blade of its smaller opponent from slicing through its unprotected neck. Faint trails of long white hair were the last thing the zombified spearman saw before its head fell from its shoulders.

Breathing a sigh of relief, the Ashen One paused a moment to catch her breath before moving on. A zombie lying in wait tried to ambush her a little ways into the building, only to end up with a longsword through its gullet. Seeing no further enemies in the immediate area, the Ashen One looked down at the large open room off to her right. There were several wooden platforms separating into a handful of floors on the way down, and a stairway lead into the bottom of the room. On nearly every level were more zombies, with the highest concentration being the bottom floor. Emaciated and ravenous looking hounds that looked ready to fall apart at any moment joined three large zombies, one with a halberd and two with axes half as large as their bodies. If that weren't enough, there were barrels of what she now recognized as explosive black powder scattered about the entire floor. That many enemies along with that great a hazard was more than an exhausted champion of ash was willing to deal with. Fortunately, the soldier she had just killed looked to have been carrying more of those small bombs.

The handheld explosives were decently heavy, and would require more effort to move than her lightweight sword, but the Ashen One felt it was more than worth it. A quick toss, a detonation, and the entire ground floor erupted in flames and flying debris. Once the ringing in her ears had stopped, the Ashen One peered over the railing to see the result of her handiwork. Nearly everything below her was burned to a crisp or gouged out by sharpened fragments of debris. A dog that had hidden below in a previously unseen stairway padded slowly into view; the sole survivor from the looks of things. Heading down the stairs to face the zombie canine, the Ashen One soon found herself alone in the large room once the damn thing had held still long enough for her to get a swing in. Groaning as she took another swig of the healing flask, she investigated the ground floor. Her search yielded a glowing shard identical to her healing flask, and a key at the base of the hidden stairs. The shard may prove of some use later, so she pocketed it. The key, while likely fitting any number of locks in this massive castle, was still worth trying out on her possible ally's cell, so she took it back to Greirat. Luckily, the key fit the lock, the thief was a prisoner no longer.

"My thanks, Ashen One." Greirat said, emphasizing his gratitude with a nod of his hooded head.

"Consider yourself lucky I found the right key." She replied.

The thief chuckled at that.

"Indeed. Now, I just have one more thing to ask of you. I know I shouldn't be so demanding, and I appreciate you releasing me, but if it wouldn't be too much trouble…"

He reached into a pocket and produced a silver ring with a beautiful blue gemstone set into it.

"Could you take this ring to Loretta, in the Undead Settlement? You're sure to go there at some point in your travels, I imagine. In the meantime, I will make good of my promise, and get you the best I can find. Will you please do this for me, Ashen One?"

It wasn't the most demanding of tasks, the Ashen One supposed. Greirat would still be helping her regardless, it seemed. Though she was doubtful that there were more than a scant few sane individuals left in this entire kingdom, given what she'd seen so far, she would most certainly be sure to deliver the ring Greirat had gone to these lengths for if she ever found Loretta.

"Very well, I promise I will do my best to get it to her," she said after a time.

Greirat breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, thank you so very much. Oh, and in the meantime, you're free to wear it if you please. All rings are special, you know, more than just food for the eyes. Now, where shall I meet you again?"

The Ashen One paused to think, looking away as she contemplated what few locations she knew of that were safe.

"I suppose the Firelink Shrine, but I don't see how you would-"

A sudden scattering of wind brought her attention back to Greirat. Or at least, where he should have been. Instead all she saw was a small broken bone in a pile of dust, the thief nowhere to be found.

"-get to it. What in the blazes did he need me for, if he can disappear so easily?"

Annoyed, but deciding to wait until she returned to the shrine to ask about it (assuming Greirat was even there when she got back), the Ashen One went back to navigating the castle. Returning to the balcony she had thought to be unstable before, she found that it was actually still quite safe, so long as one avoided the ledge leading to a messy end far below. Another handful of zombies and soldiers barred the path, but were taken care of without incident. Taking the balcony turned out to be greatly beneficial, as there was a ladder leading down at the opposite end. Descending and dealing with a couple more zombies, the Ashen One then arrived at a courtyard littered with the empty armors of countless headless knights. The likely cause for the lack of living bodies was roaming around a statue in the courtyard's center in the form of an obese knight with wing like feathers decorating its bloated torso, and a massive bloodstained poleax gripped tightly in its hands. The bloated knight looked to be at least eight feet tall, and almost half that in its width.

If the regular knights gave her as much trouble as they had, then the Ashen One loathed to imagine how difficult this behemoth would be to take down. She likely couldn't just call on whatever hidden talent had carried her through that encounter with the transformed zombie back on the rooftops at will, so for once the best course of action looked to be to just stay out of the patrolling knight's way. She waited for it to round the center statue a few times, then when it was furthest away she dashed across the courtyard to an exit on the other side. Glancing back, she saw the bloated knight still walking about in a circle, like nothing had ever happened. Sighing in immense relief, the Ashen One proceeded onward. She came to a very wide flight of stairs that stretched all the way from what looked like a cathedral leading to the inner castle down to a humongous gate, likely the main entrance judging by the upraised portcullis. Towards the cathedral, a pair of knights patrolled, while down towards the main gate were a pair of shambling soldiers with spears. There might be something of significance in the cathedral, but fighting two of the knights at once was probably a poor choice. Luckily, a third option presented itself when the Ashen One took notice of another walkway leading up and around the patrolling knights directly across from her.

Bolting across when she was sure the patrols wouldn't notice her, she found the walkway to not be quite as safe as previously thought. A third knight waited halfway down the walkway, already poised to fight. Well, at least this way it was only one. Having gained a good idea of how to best combat the knights at this point, it took significantly less time for the Ashen One to emerge victorious and be on her way. Cautiously making her way inside the cathedral, she found the grand building's interior to be practically empty, the lone occupant a hooded woman wearing regal red robes seated at the opposite end. None too trusting after the sort of experiences she'd had, the Ashen One approached with caution. Once within an arm's reach, the woman looked up at her, revealing mocha colored skin and long brown tresses poking out from the hood. The rims of copper colored irises could barely be made out from under the hood and hair. The woman looked fairly young, compared to the weathered zombies and castle around the two of them.

"Ahh, the wait has been long, Ashen One." The hooded woman said, smiling warmly. "I am Amber, High Priestess of Lothric Castle."

The Ashen One paused at the comforting tone, hoping this woman was as genuine in her sincerity as Greirat seemed to be. She nodded to continue.

"Allow me to speak frankly. You won't find the Lords of Cinder here. They've all gone to their churning homes, converging in the lands at the base of this castle. Head to the great gate, at the foot of the high wall, and raise this banner to proceed."

Amber turned to the side and picked up said banner, a worn and decrepit thing that looked on the verge of falling apart. Gently, she handed it to the Ashen One, who slung it across her back.

"Well, I am very much grateful for your kind words, priestess. They are among the first I have heard since I arrived here. Honestly, I wish more people were as kind as you," she replied with a smile.

Amber let out a short laugh.

"I can imagine. Oh, but beware, Ashen One. The dog keeps a close eye on things. That vile watchdog of the Boreal Valley…"

The Ashen One thanked her once again for the warning and the banner, then turned to head toward the great gate, making sure to take her secure upper walkway once again to avoid the roaming knights. Disposing of the soldiers and a lone archer near the entrance to the gate house, she entered cautiously, keeping an eye out for whatever Amber had meant by a "dog". Finding nothing, the Ashen One stepped toward the red tinged gate that undoubtedly lead outside the castle, disturbed at the noticeable signs of a forced entry. When she was just in front of the gate, thinking over how to open the thing, a low and deep growl sounded uncomfortably close behind her. Setting the banner down to the side so as to not worry about it, the Ashen One turned with her sword ready to meet whatever was trying to kill her this time. At the other end of the gate house, where she had entered, there was now a great wall of thick fog, and in front of that a dark and ominous vortex sat churning. Shortly, a huge armored hand came through the vortex, clutching a gargantuan mace. After that came a face concealed by a thick metal mask, though wisps of burnt copper hair stuck out from the back of its head, followed by another arm and a wide body covered in dense grey armor with a golden bird crest barely visible on the chest plate. Once the armored behemoth was fully through, it let out a bestial roar, the eyes of its mask glowing a cold and bitter blue.

 _That's a hell of a watchdog!_ The Ashen One couldn't help but think.

Seeing the behemoth crawl steadily toward her like an overweight hound, the ground trembling slightly from its sheer weight, she quickly fired a soul arrow. The behemoth did nothing to stop the bolt of magic, letting it dissipate weakly upon hitting its armor. Groaning in frustration, the Ashen One reluctantly stepped forward to fight the behemoth head on. It might not have been the best idea, given its clearly tough defenses, but it was better than being cornered and crushed. Once she was within range, the armored beast slowly drug up its large mace in a wide sweep, giving her more than enough time to slide under the behemoth and slash away at its underbelly. A faint groan and a small spray of blood was the result, showing that not all of the obese watchdog was densely protected. Of course, that didn't mean that the behemoth was simply going to allow the Ashen One to just cut away at it. Showing it was just as capable of thinking as its smaller foe, the behemoth leapt backward, just before coming back forward to slam its mace with surprising speed. The Ashen One only just managed to evade the strike before slashing, retreating for space just after. Just how fast the behemoth could attack was never really certain, as sometimes it would swing wide and slow, and others it would strike as fast as lightning. On one such occasion the Ashen One misjudged the time between her opponent's strikes, and was punished with an oversized gauntlet punching her into a wall.

Surprised to still be conscious after being hit hard enough to leave a sizeable crater where she had struck, she wheezed out a painful gasp as she forced her now broken arm to grab the healing flask, struggling to bring it to her lips as the behemoth slowly closed in. Regaining her senses, along with a body not suffering from inwardly bent ribs stabbing the organs behind them, the Ashen One quickly dove to the side as the mace fell toward her, quickly glancing to the flask. Barely enough for another drink, she couldn't afford to risk another blow like that, or any given the opponent's overwhelming strength. Gritting her teeth, she slid forward again to carve into the weak underbelly of the behemoth, repeating the process as many times as she could safely avoid getting squashed in retaliation. It seemed the constant dodging and slashing was beginning to greatly anger the behemoth, for soon it leapt out of range, then instead of attacking planted its mace firmly upon the stone floor, and roared furiously.

The glow in its eyes intensified with rage, just before the behemoth charged forward like a mad bull intent on ramming her with its sheer mass. The Ashen One dove to the side, only to find it immediately turning around and charging again. She only just dodged again, and was partially struck by the behemoth's elbow when it turned for a third and final charge. As she hurried to get off the floor, she saw the behemoth take a deep inhale, then breath out a large cloud of bone chilling cold, blanketing half of the gate house in frost. Oddly enough, though certainly not immune to the chilling feeling, the cold hardly affected the Ashen One. Still, that didn't mean she wanted to stay too close to the frost breath, lest it show a hidden harmfulness in its presence. Seeing its breath had little effect, the behemoth growled, then charged its small foe again. And again. And again. And again. If the behemoth couldn't run her down, its wild flailing attempts to hit everything nearby after missing eventually would. The Ashen One needed to end this soon, and with something stronger than a cut to the stomach. Recalling her performance with the transformed beast, and the way she moved, an idea struck her. A crazy, possibly suicidal idea, but an idea nonetheless. Evading a few more wild swings and slams of the huge mace, she arrived at the gate. Turning back to face her adversary, she found the behemoth already preparing to charge yet again. But this time, she did not move from her spot, not even when the behemoth came running at full speed.

The watchdog of the Boreal Valley charged ahead, fully convinced its opponent had finally given up. So focused was the behemoth on crushing the Ashen One, that it failed to notice that its foe had vanished from view until they crashed face first into the gate, jarring the huge metal doors slightly on impact. The Ashen One landed on its back, and in its daze there was no time to realize what had happened until a sword was being ran through its brain, several point blank soul arrows loosing from the blade immediately after, now able to hit directly. The behemoth released one final low groan of pain, then collapsed with a loud thud to the floor, turning to a pale mist in seconds. Panting in the wake of her success, the Ashen One barely had time to take in her victory before the mist that had once been the behemoth converged into a single spot, becoming a glowing sliver of light roughly the size of her fist. She didn't even have a chance to be curious about the event before it flew into her chest, and the world around her was engulfed in blinding light.

The light soon faded, revealing the corridor of some grand institution, young men and women intermittently walking in either direction wearing outfits befitting of scholars in training.

"I'm so excited! Combat class is always the best!" came a cheerful voice to her left.

The Ashen One turned to see a girl barely smaller than herself, red tips coloring the ends of her dark hair and striking silver eyes adorning her childlike face as she smiled.

"I can't argue much with you there, sis. Not when it's something we're so good at." A jovial and more mature voice sounded behind them.

The source of the new voice turned out to be a tall woman with a wild golden mane and mischievous lilac eyes, her posture very relaxed as they walked. The Ashen One then noticed that beside the blonde walked another slightly shorter woman, this one bearing a striking resemblance to the Hunter, differing only in attire and a black ribbon obscuring her ears.

"It's nice to be good at fighting, but it shouldn't be the only thing we excel at. You need brains just as much as brawn, Yang." The Ashen One heard herself say, noting the snobbish tone.

"I kind of agree with Weiss on this one, guys. I think you two could benefit from some reading." The Hunter's look alike seconded.

Weiss? Who was Weiss? Her? The Ashen One's train of thought was interrupted when the quartet of young women entered an arena, just in time to see a young blonde man get smacked across it. Standing not far away was another man who, at least to the Ashen One, appeared to be an unmasked and human sized version of the behemoth she had just slaughtered, complete with an oversized mace. The brutal young man scoffed at the blonde boy before turning away.

"Next time, try to put up a fight, Jaunie boy." He sneered as he left the arena.

"Ugh, Cardin. Bullies are the worst…" the brunette girl muttered.

The blonde boy sighed as his defeat was announced by a voice that sounded suspiciously like the Firekeeper's, just before turning to the quartet and standing up straight in surprise.

"O-Oh, hey Weiss, what's up?" he said nervously, looking in her direction.

The Ashen One never got a chance to answer, much less try to confirm if she was indeed who the boy was speaking at, for the light that brought her to this strange place appeared once again, putting her back at the now opened great gate to Lothric Castle when it faded. A new bonfire had appeared near where the behemoth had fallen, granting her a much needed opportunity to return to Firelink Shrine. The Ashen One now had an idea of just how twisted the kingdom had become, and more so than that she had questions, many, many questions.

First and foremost, who in the world is Weiss?

* * *

 **A/N: I'm just going to clarify now that not EVERY boss/NPC is going to be replaced by a RWBY character. Hope you all enjoyed! Please be sure to review! Till next time! Dark Novelist out.**


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